


My Favorite Gift

by webcricket



Series: 24 Days of Christmas Advent Drabbles [3]
Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-10 19:59:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12919185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/webcricket/pseuds/webcricket
Summary: Prompt Song - My Favorite Things. This drabble is pure sugar.





	My Favorite Gift

Thoughtfully chewing the end of your pen, teeth leaving shallow dents in the black plastic cap, you look up from the yellow-striped vintage Men of Letters notepad in your lap to the angel on the other side of the table and wonder in silence, _“What do you get a celestial being who professes to not need or want anything for Christmas?”_

Castiel squints at a book of lore, but his blue eyes lift and soften to search yours when he senses your warm regard. “You’re still working on your list,” he notes.

“Almost done,” you mumble around the pen, staring down at the names on your gift giving list and the giant question mark you drew beside Cas’ name to fill the empty space.

Dean passes through the library just then humming a familiar tune around a large bite of ham and cheese sandwich.

“Sound of Music?” you tease him, recognizing the song.

He pauses at the door, mid-chew. Swallowing the thick wad of meat and bread, he arches an eyebrow and smirks. “Classic Julie Andrews, ‘nuff said.” He shoves in another mouthful of food and departs the room with a wink.

 _“That’s it!”_ you think, gaze settling back on the angel. _“All those billions of years since creation - he’s got to have a few favorite things.”_

Castiel tears his attention from Dean’s departure to again focus on you as you rip a sheet of paper free from the notepad and slide it across the table along with your gnawed pen. His blue enameled irises glimmer curiously as he watches the action.

“Cas, will you do something for me?” You sweetly smile and lean forward, resting your elbows on the smooth mahogany wood. You already know he’ll do anything in his power that you ask of him. You like asking regardless.

“Anything,” he answers without hesitation.

“I’d like you to make a list of your favorite things.”

He intently studies your features for several seconds, expression unreadable. Finally, nodding once, he reaches out and picks up the proffered saliva-coated writing utensil and moves the blank paper closer.

Your smile broadens as you fall back into the chair.

He begins writing immediately, studiously filling the page in flowing cursive script. When he finishes, he carefully places the pen on the paper, rotates the page with his index finger, and glides it toward you.

Surely now you’ll find inspiration for the perfect gift. Your eyes eagerly dart over the words he wrote:

_The way your nose scrunches when you smile. The way my vessel’s heart flutters when you’re near. How your laughter fills a room with music. How your entrance floods a room with light. When you reach for my hand somehow knowing I need you to ground me. Your fingers idly wandering in my hair. The wet glint in your eyes when you witness an act of kindness. The warmth of your soft flesh beneath my fingertips. The way your soul shines brighter than the sun. The salty taste of your skin on my tongue. The pliant give of your lips and honeyed sweetness of your mouth. The sound of my name exhaled on your heated breath. How you never give up on me even when I doubt myself. When you look at me as though I am enough, a being worthy of your love, and that there is nowhere else you’d rather be but in my arms._

You don’t realize you’re crying until the tears splatter and smear the ink.

Castiel is beside you by then, spinning your chair around to raise your trembling frame into his embrace. He presses you tight to his chest, kissing the top of your head and murmuring into your hair, “You – you are my favorite thing, Y/N.”


End file.
